


She Thought That I Was Tucked Up In My Bedroom Fast Asleep

by makingitwork



Series: Bughead Prompts [59]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Buggie Break, Christmas, Day 5: Comet, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Oblivious Betty, Riverdale Events, Riverdale Reindeer Games, bughead - Freeform, different timeline, family traditions, pining Jughead, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-12 23:04:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16880940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: There's only one thing Jughead wants for Christmas.Featuring a very creepy Chic.





	She Thought That I Was Tucked Up In My Bedroom Fast Asleep

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by: tumblr's "serpents-n-sweaters"
> 
> who asked for: "I need a fic where Chic is still creeping around the Cooper house and Jughead gets invited to a family barbecue or something by Betty and when he walks in he sees Chic alone holding Juniper or Dagwood who is in tears bc babies can sense when people are weird af danger danger and Jughead is immediately walking over like ‘here why don’t I take that I help babysit all the time no biggie’ and the baby stops crying as soon as they’re in his arms bc have no fear uncle jug is here to save the day."
> 
> Merry Christmas, darling! I hope I did this justice, and I hope you
> 
> Enjoy!

Jughead loves Betty. 

But Cooper family get togethers make him a little queasy. He's not sure what it is. Okay, he is sure. It's the vomit-inducing contrast of the smiling happy faces and golden sunshine blond, with the horrors he knows lies just beneath the surface of their skin. It's the beautiful, sparkly blue eyes and the rosy smiles, when he knows that right there, Betty had to wipe down a giant pool of blood and cover the hardwood with bleach. Jughead likes looking beneath the veil, he likes uncovering the truth, but he knows the Cooper family too well to buy the polished veneer. He knows Betty too well. He can't put the veil back into place. 

But he's still here. Lurking in the corner at the annual Cooper Christmas Party. Alice has gone overboard, as per usual, and the dining table is laden like a banquet fit for a king. There are decorations everywhere, and he's accosted by the site of glitter and tinsel wherever he turns. A very wholesome Christmas music playlist is the perfect volume, the smell of mulled wine and mince pies (home made) is in the air. There's a wreath on every wall and a little nativity set up by the fireplace. All the  _good_ members of town, all the Alice-approved members, are here. Laughing and talking and eating and acting as if nothing awful has ever happened in Riverdale. 

It's such a rejection of truth, such a wall of ignorance that Jughead can't stand it. How can people choose to be so blind? How can they willingly put up with this charade-

"It's way of coping," Betty murmurs, and he jumps a little, to see her now by his side. She's decked out in a relatively unflattering and frumpy Christmas sweater, but Jughead still thinks she's the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. He's always thought that. "People want a break from all the horror, Jug. They can't cope with it the way that you do. They need a release." She sighs and looks out over the crowd of people in the living room and kitchen. Smiling faces and eggnog and the slowly changing lights of the Christmas tree. He watches as she purses her lips, as if, like him, she's disappointed at their compartmentalising. 

He nudges her a little. "How did you..."

"Please," she laughs, looking up at him with her distracting eyes. "I could practically hear you brooding over here in the corner."

He gives her that one. He is essentially lurking in the shadows of the stairwell, the only place that hasn't been bombarded with obnoxious lights. He ducks his head, feeling out of place. He's wearing his nicest sweater- a deep burgundy, and some jeans. His beanie, of course, but he still...he doesn't feel right. "Why did you invite me, Betty?" He asks, nearly complaining even though he doesn't want to seem ungrateful. "Your mom very clearly didn't invite anyone from the Southside and-"

Betty frowns, shaking her head. She has her hair loose today and it trails like spun sunshine down her shoulders. "I invited you because you're my friend, Juggie." She says sincerely, touching his arm. "You shouldn't feel uncomfortable, you've done so much for us, for my mom especially. She's just being ungrateful and she owes you so much."

He shakes his head. "I didn't do anything for her, Betty." He whispers, because it's true. He didn't carry a body into a tunnel, or help sink a car, or toss a cellphone into the abyss, or distract Hal over and over and over again all for Alice. He did it for Betty. He'd do anything for Betty. She has to know that by now, doesn't she? He swallows hard against the lump in his throat. "I would do anything for you, Betty." He murmurs, because he's worried she doesn't know. He wants- he  _needs_ her to know. 

Something warm works over her face and her hand on his arm becomes more like a caress than a reassurance. "I know, Juggie," she smiles, and she has to tiptoe to kiss his cheek. 

 _I love you._ He thinks fiercely. He would do anything for her, he really would. He wants to say that he loves her. That he's always loved her. That he wanted to ask her to prom but knew she had her heart set on going with Archie. He wants to say that he's loved her ever since Middle School. That one night during a sleep over with Archie and Veronica, where he and Betty had stayed up all night eating and talking. He'd looked at her across the counter in the light of the moon and known it in his bones. He opens his mouth to say it. That maybe  _now,_ maybe after everything- that even though Jason's death was a tragedy, it meant that he and Betty had grown close again in all those ways that they'd been pulled apart after Archie and him had fought all those months ago. 

Things were better with Archie now. Brothers again. But he and Betty...there's something there. There has to be. He can feel it. 

"Betty," he begins nervously, clearing his throat, "I-"

"Oh no," she cuts him off, and he feels terror flood through him because  _oh god_ what if she doesn't feel the same way? "My mom's terrorising Veronica. I'll be right back." She rushes away and he's left in the dark with the words of love on his tongue. He sinks into the shadows a bit more and watches. He can see Fred talking to Mr Doiley, and Archie hovering protectively at his side. He considers going over to join them, but then thinks better of it. He loves Fred like family, but he knows that he'd get a look of pity because FP isn't here. 

He's back in their decoration-less trailer or maybe in the White Wyrm with the other Serpents. Jughead could be there with them. He feels like he has a foot in both camps; torn between the leather jacket and this expensive, burgundy sweater.

He sleeps in the Southside, but he  _lives_ on the Northside.

His blood is Southside blood, but his heart is...he watches Betty steer her mother away from Veronica...his heart is in the Northside. 

As the Christmas song changes to  _Frosty the Snowman_ like they're all in elementary school, he hears something from upstairs. He frowns, and looks up the stairwell. Juniper and Dagwood are asleep up there. He turns to scan for Polly, who's chatting animatedly to Cheryl. Jughead briefly contemplates going over, but before he's even rejected the idea, he's on his way upstairs. He's pretty familiar with the Cooper household. Especially recently. He's snuck around with Betty taking pictures of Alice's papers, he's climbed in through Betty's bedroom window, he's broken the front door down with his foot, and he's helped wrap a body up in a carpet in their front room. 

He's played with Juniper and Dagwood time after time after time. Polly, for some reason, likes him. Jughead isn't sure why. He's not sure what he did to deserve the two Cooper girls. He's not very...likeable. He's weird. A loner. But they embrace it. 

Sometimes, he swears, Alice seems to as well. But then she does something like this, and doesn't invite him to the stupid annual Christmas Party that he doesn't want to go to anyway, but still- it hurts, it  _hurts_ because he feels like part of the family, and this is a family tradition and- how many families is one person allowed to have? 

He wonders if it would have been different if he and Betty were dating. Maybe he'd have been invited then. 

Dating Betty. Just the thought makes him smile as he reaches the top of the landing. He frowns. He can hear better now. One of the babies is crying. Everything's dark up here, but he moves easily into the nursery and pushes open the door. 

The first thing he sees are Juniper's big blue eyes staring up at him, crying and screaming and struggling in the hold of...

Jughead knows only one person with that frame and that hair. Chic turns around to see him, and smiles. It's a smile that Jughead doesn't trust at all, and even if he  _wasn't_ getting the creepiest vibes from this guy, the fact that Betty doesn't trust him is enough for Jughead. Chic's waxy smile doesn't wane. "She won't settle," he says, like this isn't weird. Like Chic standing in the nursery and holding a crying baby in the pitch black darkness above a Christmas party isn't weird. Like Jughead finding him here, like the whole situation, isn't completely fucking  _weird._

Juniper wails, little body ferociously adamant in its attempt to get out of Chic's grip. Jughead resists the urge to grin.  _Smart baby._ Sensing when psychos are near by. "Let me take her," he says, but it's not an ask for permission, it's more of a statement, and he reaches forward to lift Juniper out of Chic's grip. He's worried, for a second, that Chic will put up a fight, but after a moment, he relinquishes his hold, and Jughead cradles little Juniper in his arms.

Immediately, the screaming stops. Fades into hiccups and sniffles and Jughead murmurs to her, giving her a finger to play with and rocking his arms ever so gently. Juniper Cooper has never seen him as a threat. The twins like him. Like him the way that Polly and Betty- and sometimes Alice- seem to like him. He looks up, to see Chic watching him with piercing, blue eyes. Not the  _right_ blue. Jughead should know from all the time he's spent gazing at Betty's. It's an off-blue. Too thin, too watery. "You're very good with her." He accuses, voice ominous. 

Jughead holds Juniper a little tighter, and shifts so he can stand nearer the crib where Dagwood is still sleeping. He lets out a breath of relief, before realising Chic is still staring at him. "Y-yeah, I...I babysit." He says, as Juniper clutches his finger and nestles further into the soft material of his sweater. "What are you doing up here, Chic? The rest of the party's downstairs." He bites back sharply, because he's not the one on trial here. Everything about this guy is giving Jughead the creeps. 

Chic shrugs. "I came to see my niece and nephew." He replies, turning to look at Dagwood and beginning to reach forward.

Jughead moves and places himself in front of the crib, shaking his head. "I think you should let them rest for now." He warns, trying to keep his voice level. Chic's stare is penetrative, like it's cutting into him, but he steps back obligingly and does that sickly sweet smile again. He turns and walks out, his footsteps silent on the carpet, and Jughead waits a beat, before placing Juniper back into the crib. She blinks up at him and smiles a relatively toothless cheer. He chuckles in response. "Sleep," he croons, resting his arms on the side and leaning over. He tries to think back to what his mom would do for Jellybean when she couldn't sleep. 

He can hear  _Mistletoe and Wine_ very dimly downstairs and smirks a little at the thought of Alice's face if she knew what he was planning a rendition of. 

"How about I sing you a little song?" He asks, and Juniper blinks eagerly. Jughead won't sing for anyone, but maybe, for his two favourite babies who can't tell a soul, he could try. Something Alice wouldn't play but not too explicit. He reaches down to rub Juniper's tummy as an idea comes to mind. "I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus," he hums, light as a feather at first, "underneath the mistletoe last night..." he takes a breath, his throat a little rough and unused to singing of any kind. But Juniper seems stunned and reaches up to bat a hand towards him. Jughead smiles and makes a face. "She didn't see me creep... down the stairs to have a peek, she thought that I was tucked up in my bedroom fast asleep. Then I saw mommy..." 

He's not sure quite how it happens, but pretty soon he and Juniper are whirling around the bedroom and she's giggling into his chest with excitement. After the third rendition, he's a little sweaty and out of breath, amazed that he actually knows all the words, and he lies down on the carpet and sets Juniper on his chest. She thumps over his heart like she wants him to sing again and he laughs. He can hear music and laughter downstairs. He's warm all over and outside: the stars and the moon are shining. Nothing is as sinister or bleak as it seemed before. 

He hasn't been thinking about darkness or murder for the first time in a while. He understands now, why the people downstairs want to forget while they can. It's nice. He lets Juniper play with his fingers and closes his eyes, embracing the lack of evil and pretending, that just for a while longer, everything is okay. "Oh what a laugh it would have been, if daddy had only seen, mommy kissing Santa Claauuusss laaaasstt nighhhtttt..." He tucks his free hand under his head and looks at the baby with semi-lidded eyes. "Maybe you could give me some advice," he murmurs, as Juniper gurgles. "I'm a little bit in love with your Auntie." It feels good to say the words aloud. Juniper leans down to squeeze his nose and he grins at the feel of her chubby hands. "That's your advice, hm? That's good. I'll use that: Declare love to Betty, then grab her nose." 

He pauses for a second, the song still stuck in his head. 

"Mistletoe?" He ventures, getting up as Juniper yawns widely. He cradles her and sets her back down into the crib. Her eyes shut almost immediately. He arranges the blanket over her. "Maybe. I could do that. Be cool and suave for once: Hey, Betty, look what we're standing under-" he shakes his head, seeing it play out in his imagination and cringing, "nope. No. I'm not Archie." He sighs musingly, watching as Juniper falls into a peaceful slumber, but he doesn't want to go just yet. Just in case Chic comes back and because up here, away from the party but still...near it, it's nice. It's him. Very outskirts of the circle, but still a part of it. But he should probably go. He'll talk to Betty, and warn her, before he walks through the cold and the night back to his dad.

He leans down to kiss their heads, before walking to the door and opening it. 

Betty stumbles into his chest.

He stares down at her, confused. "Betty?" He frowns, as she rights herself. "Is everything okay?" His first thought that of worry. 

She hurriedly tucks her hair behind her ears and nods. "Oh, yeah!" She chippers brightly, "e-everything's fine, Juggie." She's smiling a little too hard, and she's a bit red. Flushed. Maybe she's had something to drink when-

it clicks and he swallows hard. "Were you..." his heart is thundering in his chest. He can feel redness creeping over his jaw. "Were you listening-"

"I didn't know you were up here," she hurries to explain and he splutters because that means  _yes_ and that means, what if she- oh god the _humiliation._ It's white hot and burning. He doesn't know what to do. What does he do? "I wasn't eavesdropping, honestly, Juggie, I just heard- well, I mean," she laughs, still shy but sweet as it comes out in a fast jumble of words, "you were  _singing_ and I didn't wanna embarrass you and-"

It's the worst case scenario. She's heard, then. She knows. She knows he's in love with her. If it's possible, through the violently red shame, he even loves her more now. Looking down as she splutters and blushes and tries to explain herself. She's beautiful, adorable, brilliant, and for some reason, standing right here with him. Not rushing away awkwardly or trying to laugh it off. She's not laughing at him, she's here, she's bashful, she's..."Betty," he cuts her off, soft and adoring and still completely embarrassed. "It's okay." 

Her huge sapphire eyes look up at him. "Really?" She whispers, and he nods. 

It's Christmas. He's brave. He wants Chic out of this house and he wants Betty in his arms. "All I want for Christmas," he begins, clearing his throat, because he's all in when it comes to this girl, "is you." 

She laughs, grinning with amazement before tiptoeing to kiss him right on the lips. 

Downstairs, people are forgetting their troubles. Downstairs, Chic is lurking. Tomorrow, darkness will come again. Tomorrow, Riverdale will keep throwing new tortures at them. 

But now, today, right here, upstairs-

Jughead doesn't give a single damn. 

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas my fellow bugheads, here's to a good one! 
> 
> MWAH 
> 
> x


End file.
